[Training] don't know what to say

Maea

And I never know what to say

'Til I'm already walking away

Her daggers sliced through thin air, skirts whirling about her legs as though this was a dance, not a battle. It felt more like a dance to Maea, for all the lack of music. It was peaceful in the midst of the violence, quiet as her thoughts fell away and all that remained was an awareness of her own body and the person moving in sync with her, swirling with a skill she had expected, even blunted and weakened by centuries encased in stone as it was. The cane came whistling towards her legs, faster than she could move out of the way; it stung against her calves even through the layers of fabric, and she was grateful to be on her feet still.

Already spinning, it was an easy thing to breathe through the pain and focus all her attention upon the next attack, the next defense. With the cane down by her legs she thought she saw an opening, and lashed out again with fire-edged blades; towards his side this time, and ribs that looked all too inviting. Maybe it was a trap. Maybe he saw it coming.

It didn't really matter. The longer this went on the more she would learn about the man, and his experience, and about herself. Far more intimate than any exchange of words, this was a far better way to figure out whether she would be able to stand him or not. She looked forward to whatever came next.

Wanna punch you in the face

But I won't, but I might, but I won't